


The Ballad of Paladin

by ladyerrant



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Violence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-24 17:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyerrant/pseuds/ladyerrant
Summary: Have gun will travel reads the card of a man-a knight without armor in a savage land. His fast gun hire heeds the calling wind, a soldier of fortune, is a man called Paladin.
Kudos: 2





	The Ballad of Paladin

**Author's Note:**

> this will probably consist of a few chapters-inspired by old westerns (have gun will travel-namesake of the fic/killer intro song)
> 
> rating may change/more tags will be added.

“Erron... do you smoke?”

He picked himself up from his bedroll, propped up on his hands-glancing over at the man beside him- a cigarette case in his hand, silver gleaming and catching the moonlight. Smoke blown out through his lips, half shut eyes watching it move and dissipate above them-blanket of ink, the heavens their only company. He felt it in his nose, burning-pungent. The smell of his father, sweat and alcohol, dark eyes that stared off at nothing-face covered in soot, the glow of the end of a cigarette. “Yeah, I’ve smoked before...” 

“Here... make it last.”

Between his lips-rolling paper sticking to the inside of his bottom lip for a moment-keeping his eyes on the tiny orange flame as Price leaned over, hand cupped around the match tip, protecting it from the breeze. A drag in, his eyes watering and chest tightening up-not his first smoke but it still hit him, maybe he’d make it into a habit, the taste of tobacco-Price's own special mix, a light sweetness, a hit of barley seed in the back of his throat. “Thanks...” he muttered through his teeth, looking up to the sky and waving away the smoke from in front of his face.

“You told me you didn’t have any left...” sleep muddled voice calling over from across the dying campfire, a bald head popping into view, reflecting moonlight just as Price’s cigarette case had. He stifled a laugh, laying back down on his elbows and taking in a deeper drag, keeping the smoke in him longer.

“Hand on my heart I don’t have anymore, buy yourself some fixin’s, can’t bum them off of me all your damn life...”

“I like how you roll em’-" the man's voice more alert, his inflection making Erron chuckle. 

“Molasses wouldn’t even run down his leg he's so lazy..." a bold tone, ensuring that he'd be heard by him-winking at Erron before taking another drag from his cigarette, flicking away ash on the ground beside them.

“Men, we should douse the lights-" a wavering voice, higher than the other men-always jumping up a pitch whenever he tried to speak louder.

The rustling of thin blankets and grumbled out complaints-a shout from the left of him, farther past Price "Quit yappin'"

“I’m just mentioning-" 

“Delany..." Price's voice stopping them both, Erron focusing on the moon above them as they spoke.

“Yesum?”

“That town we’re headin’ towards... only a few miles from here, you checked?”

“I did, we should be hitting it round noon tomorrow.”

“Round noon tomorrow... any sight of a ranch, a homestead-we’ll pay them a visit. Need to get some coffee and grub-" 

“All thanks to you, dough puncher-" A ripple of laughter, leaned into and taunting-Reid over on the opposite side of the camp fire, fully awake now and sitting up in his bedroll. Erron glanced over at Delany beside him, watching his cheeks grow a ruddy red, brow furrowing as he stumbled over his words, mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. 

“I miscalculated our supplies, it was an honest mistake-if you could count you’d understand-" Erron couldn't help but laugh, letting it out with a snort-biting his lip when he felt Price nudge his shoulder.

"I said quit yappin', goddamn-"

“You mind those ears of yours, stuff em with sand for all I care-" Delany's voice cracking as he tried to make it carry.

“You know why you miscalculated? That boy over there... damn bottomless pit.” A bite in his response, Erron could feel those bloodshot eyes on him, without looking at him he could see the sneer on Reid's face.

“Don’t call me boy..." he glanced over at him, stone faced, a ripple of anger in his gut-what his father had always addressed him by.

“Oh I’m sorry, what you call him Delany... Mister Black... want me to curtsy whenever I’m talkin’ to ya too?” Another laugh, a groan from Price, now laying flat on his back and covering his face with a hand.

“If you want, I won’t stop you." 

“Everybody, cram your damn holes and shut your eyes. I’ll be wakin’ you fools up with embers down your bedrolls if this keeps up.” He caught Price’s deep sigh, turning over to watch him bury himself further into his bedroll- aiming and flicking his cigarette butt into the smoking center of the pit. Noticing his gaze Price shook his head, pulling his face into an exaggerated frown before lying back and closing his eyes. 

“Mister Black...” Delany knelt down beside him, thin long johns pulled tight over his gut-he patted down his bed roll, fingering small holes that peppered the cloth before laying down with a tired groan. “Here-"

A piece of hardtack, broken off of a larger lump he likely had stowed away-he took it, meeting his eyes and offering a small nod “Thanks, dough puncher...” 

A thin laugh-as if he was barely giving himself permission to do so. His laughter short lived, he rolled over onto his back, picking something out from beneath his bedroll, a small black leather bound book he held tightly, pressing his lips to it before setting it against his chest and shutting his eyes. “Sleep well, men.”

A roll call of good nights around the fire-muffled and nearly whispered-their owners half asleep. Erron spoke it softly himself, jabbing the end of his cigarette into the ground beside him and placing the piece of hard tack beneath his teeth, tongue against it, building up saliva to break it down. He stared at the sky, linking together stars that made up constellations-as Delany had explained to him. Stars that led their way whenever they traveled at night, a compass of light in the endless reaches above them. Counting them, as he usually did-rocked to sleep by his own mind taking in the vastness of light.

* * *

"Get up, c'mon now. Get. Up-" each word followed by the loud clang of pots-the noise bursting through his ears. He groaned, lifting his blanket up and over his head-stifling the sound, for a moment. "Lazy, the lot of ya..." he removed the blanket from his head, blinking the sleep out of his eyes-trying to make out the figures in his line of sight. 

"Muchacho, good morning." 

He glanced up, meeting eyes with the man who'd kept watch, noticing the tiredness in his voice-he offered a weak grin and stumbled to his feet. "Good morning-" a yawn interrupting him as he stretched his arms out to the sky. Early morning, haziness around them, light just breaking. More words in Spanish, Avilla walking past him-calling out to Price. He tried to follow, not prying but listening out for any words he knew. Rucksack in his arms, he searched through it-pulling out the shirt and pants he'd been wearing yesterday-he pulled them on, glancing up and catching bodies moving, low grumbling as the men got dressed. Price shouldered by Avilla, the men talking lowly-Delany approached them, already fully dressed, looking like he'd been awake for hours. He rolled up his bedding, tossing it over his shoulder and walking over to where the horses were milling around. 

Half of his piece of hardtack, kept in his bedroll-small crumbs poking into him when he'd woken up-he offered it out to Ody, patting at his neck as he ate. He loaded up his bedroll before hopping on, sneezing into his hand-dust tickling his nose. Sleep tempting him, he stretched his legs-trying to focus on staying awake. 

The familiar pattern he’d noticed, Jacob the first to saddle up beside him-breaking his moment all to himself, focusing on the breathing and snuffling of their mounts around them, scratching at the neck of Ody as he sat atop him. Acknowledged with a nod, he sat silently on his horse, looking out at the group still collecting their belongings behind them. Few words between him and the other men, fit to stay back and observe. He sighed audibly at the sound of commotion, familiar voices rising in pitch. All Erron could do was shrug when he met his eyes, laughing to himself when Jacob scoffed at the sound of a string of curses shot out by one of the men. He focused back on his horse, digging his fingers into his hide-scratching a thick patch of dirt away. 

“Did you hear what Price said last night?”

He looked up, Jacob's eyes cast in shadow by the wide brim of his hat. “Yeah, we’ll hit a ranch or somethin’.”

Pushing up the brim of his hat he nodded “We’ll see how that goes.”

A few miles, following behind the group a small distance-listening to the groans and grumbles that still reached back to where he was, complaint's about a nights sleep on hard earth. The sound of birds in the sky above-building as the land was covered in sunlight, sharp trills of hawks and the softer melodies of mourning doves among what he could pick out. A loud whistle cut off in an instant, Price motioning for them to close rank-a grin on spreading on his face as a homestead came into view, outbuildings and fences dotting the earth.

"Hold still-"

"I look fine, besides I can comb my own hair..." he groaned, face growing hot as Delany tried to reach for him-a snort of laughter coming from the men who'd stayed behind, Price and Avilla trying to see their way in for food to fill their gullets. 

"I'm sorry..." Delany dropped his hands, clearing his throat and glaring over at Reid sat crossed legged on the ground a few feet away from them. "Now, what's our story-" he refocused quickly, tugging on the front of his vest, picking away any specks of dirt he could find.

"I'll say Erron's my son-" Laughter growing, a strong hand clasping onto his shoulder. "We look pretty similar, right?" Erron groaned, looking over at Jacob-leaned up on the banister to the stairs-watching them with raised brow. He turned his gaze up at the man-narrowing his eyes at his amused expression. Long black hair reaching past his shoulders, wiry beard that he considered his prized possession trailing down past his collarbone. "What do you say, son?" he emphasized the last word.

"Lee, you two don't look nothin' alike." A tiny huff of laughter leaving Delany, belly shaking-the chain of his pocket watch hitting against the straining buttons of his vest “Now, how many children do you actually have scattered across god's green earth?”

”A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell...” his voice low voice, hacking laughter coughed out with a slap to Erron’s shoulder “and neither do I-” He took a step back, observing Delany with a serious frown for a moment “Besides, don’t think I can even count that high...” he winked, laughing at his own words as Delany shook his head, drawing a hand up and removing his hat, wiping away the sweat building at the crown of his head with a handkerchief. Erron bit back a laugh, watching Lee walk over to Reid and throw himself down onto the ground beside him-the two men sharing a laugh.   
  


“Delany-" Erron hiked up his pants, belt buckle clanging softly-he’d been steadily growing into it, the smallest hole now too tight for him to buckle “I’ll just say you’re my... y’know-if they ask.” it was what they had gone with a few times before, what made the most sense-sharing the same shade of hair color, his eyes a greener hazel than his own. The same height, though on track to pass him by-having let out the hem in his pants just a month ago.

He smiled, stuffing the handkerchief back into a breast pocket and placing the derby hat back on his head "We'll do that-"

"Men, let's have some chow. We're in-all thanks to my endless amount of charm..." a small bow, Price removing his hat with a flourish-combed down hair picking up with a slight breeze warming them "What?" he glanced over at Avilla beside him as the men grouped up-a look of disbelief on his face before he covered a smile with his hand.

"Nothing, nothing. Very charming." 

"Let's go men, don't break anything-" he led the way, the men following-setting up in order as they clambered through to the doorway-removing their hats and stomping their feet on the wooden porch. 

Delany turned to face him again "On your best behavior, Mister Black..."

"Best tell that to them-" he motioned with his chin at the sight of Reid building up spit, gurgling low in his throat and hurling out the mucus off the side of the porch. 

Face pulled into a faint grimace "You know they don't listen to me... c'mon, let’s get some eats.”


End file.
